Embers
by SilvertonguedClotpole
Summary: What happened in the time before Camelot? When Merlin was just a boy struggling with his powers in a village full of people who hate him? The one time he could prove himself to be trustworthy and not the clumsy boy with magic they all think he is, but will it go to plan? Part of the 'Ealdor Series'.
1. Chapter 1

**First off, I would like to say SO SORRY, to anyone following me for Merlin stories, I have had so little inspiration lately and when I have, I have been in the middle of another story. But I do have a number of ideas written down for longer Merlin stories, so hopefully one should be out soon. A few nights ago, I had the idea of writing some short fics of Merlin's time before Camelot, and growing up in Ealdor. So here we are with the first one. I could never decide if the other villagers knew of his powers (obviously other than Will) but I decided for the purpose of the stories, they do. Anyway, without any further ado, all mistakes my own, no beta, I own none of the characters, all copyright to BBC and all that Jazz...**

***whispers* Merlin...**

He couldn't remember how many sunrises he had watched in the last few months, or how many times he had watched the rest of the village wake up and start their days, when he himself had started hours before. In his short life, he didn't think he had ever seen as many sunrises as he had lately, even when he was made to get up for farm duties in the harvest seasons. Today was slightly different, it was the village's rest day so no-one would be up for another few hours, giving him more time to bury himself under the masses of emotions flying through him..._how lovely. _Closing his eyes against the sudden glow of the sun, he let the fresh breeze ruffle his dark hair and, just for a moment, allowed his feelings to be blown away with it. He was startled when a hand fell on his shoulder, jumping and letting a short yelp out.

"Sorry sweetheart." His mother's calm voice relaxed him from his sudden surprise, even though when he thought of it, no-one trying to kill him would make him aware of their presence before they killed him.

"Mother, what are you doing up?" He turned around to meet her gaze and found her slowly settling herself next to him with her arms wrapping in his and her head on his shoulder.

"I could ask you the same darling." She paused and when Merlin turned away in shame she carried on. "I woke up to find you gone, and if I am honest, it is not the first time."

"I didn't mean to worry you. I just need some fresh air sometimes."

"Merlin, we work outside everyday from sunrise to sunset, I don't think you could possibly _get _anymore fresh air." She chuckled slightly but it was half hearted and sad. "Now talk to me, please."

Merlin looked up once more to the rising sun, which was now nearly all visible, painting the sky a proud purple and Pendragon red. "They hate me...all of them, and they're scared of me."

He could feel his mother tense up beside him and her grip tighten on his arm. "Not all of them." Was all she could say.

"Ok then, all of them apart from Will, oh, and the newborn children who have no idea what being quiet is nevermind what a magic user is." He knew his voice was rising with anger, so he drew in a breath to ease himself. "Sometimes I just wonder why I was put on this earth, why everything happened the way it did."

"Because one day you will be great, I know it. You are meant for more things than this little old village Merlin, and one day you will realise that all this pain was worth it."

"Really?" His mother nodded on his shoulder. "I wish I could think like that, but I can't."

"Oh darling." Hunith straightened up and brought her son into a hug, now resting her head atop his and stroking the jet black hair. "I am right, you will see. Besides, I am your mother, and mother's are always right."

"James O'Donnel said he wished my magic would backfire on me and kill me, Sarah Bruce said that if the King's men asked about sorcerer's, she would hand me over in an instant, regardless of what reward they were giving. These people have nothing and any rewards from the King are treasured, and yet they would gladly receive nothing to hand me over. Oh and Oliver..." He didn't get any further.

"It is because they do not know you. They only know the younger you, the boy who was learning to control his magic as they learnt how to control the farming equipment. Remember Joseph, how he cut old John's toe off once learning how to plow? That is no different to you accidentally burning Jenny Pinkett's ponytail off trying to light a torch. Once they get to know _you, _and realised you have your magic under control...mostly...they will be more accepting, I am sure of it."

Merlin didn't say anything, his heart was heavy and his head ached from the lack of sleep and overthinking. Instead, he sat up straight, tensed his shoulders and tried to stop the tears from escaping.

"Are you coming back? You can get a few more hours rest before we have to do anything."

"No."

Next to him, Hunith reluctantly stood up and began to walk off, only after giving her son one last kiss on the top of his head and cheek. "Please come back soon, I hate to see you like this."

He knew when he was alone, the atmosphere was different. For now, the tears had passed and he was left feeling angry, bitter and ready to leave. Of course, he knew he couldn't, he was barely 16 and there was no chance he could-or would-leave his mother; besides, he had nowhere to go. So sitting on the highest hill of the village, brooding, and watching the day pass by, was the only relief he could have for now. His dream was to feel accepted, but there was such a huge part of himself yelling that that would take years to come, if ever at all.

XX

Somehow, and he know not how, he had fallen asleep, curled into a ball on the brow of the hill, basking in the morning sun. It gave him a feeling of warmth the emotions had frozen away within him, and allowed him to feel, even for just a few minutes, that everything would be ok, just as his mother had said.

He was brought out of his thoughts when a scream flooded the small valley the village was located in. It wasn't one of immediate danger, but one of fright nevertheless. He stood up quickly, making his head fuzzy from the rush, and scanned the area for the source of the sound. It did not take him long to find a group of villagers stood around a house that was billowing dark grey smoke, and not from a simple chimney fire. It was the breadmakers' house, a house where 6 people resided, as well as being a majorly important household for the village. This was his time, he knew simple spells to put out fires, they were some of the first he learnt, knowing that sometimes his fire _making _spells sometimes got out of hand. If he could put out the fire, and help get everyone to safety, he would be seen as a hero, and not a waste of space everyone should be scared of.

Running as fast as he could, he made his way down to the crowd and began pushing his way through from the back.

"Let me through, I can help, I can help!" Normally, he would feel bad for shoving the people out of the way, particularly the young children and elderly men and women, but right now he couldn't linger on the concern.

"No, not you." This was the first thing he received when finally breaking through to the front of the crowd. "Go away Merlin."

"But John I can help, I know a spell to bring down a fire. Please, let me help."

Just as John was about to refuse (it was obvious he was going to say _no_ by the sheer look on his face), a scream came from the back of the house.

"It's Jess, she's still in there. My baby, she's still in there. She's my only girl, someone get her out." The mother was in bits, her 3 boys, husband and herself had been rescued, but Jess was too far in to be rescued safely.

"Are you sure you can do this boy?" John looked very reluctant but was backing down as the danger became more and more evident.

"Yes."

"Then do it."

Merlin stepped forward, closed his eyes and drew in the deepest breath he thought he had ever drawn, though it wasn't the best idea as his lungs cried out when they were filled with smoke and ash.

He whispered the word. _"áflíeman."_

No! Wrong spell, no no no no! His exhausted mind had got it wrong, that was to disperse the smoke, not put out the fire. He kept his eyes closed and took another breath in. No worries, that would only expel the smoke, he just had to remember the spell to put out the fire and it would all be ok, no-one would know he had gone wrong. But oh...wait...

"You stupid boy! What have you done!?" A voice was screaming at him from the crowd, and now everyone was moaning in shocked and agonized cries.

Opening his eyes he saw he had in fact managed to rid the house of its flames, Jess was already climbing through the debris, but instead of going out, it had moved onto the next building. And the next building was the very important straw and hay shed used for warmth, animal feed and nearly every other important aspect to their livelihoods. Already, half the stacks were alight and quickly spreading onto the second half of the shed. _Oh no._

"Put it out! PUT IT OUT!"

The shouting wasn't helping, his mind had gone blank with shock and despair. This was his one chance- ONE CHANCE- to prove himself and he had blown it. He threw his hands over his ears to block out the sounds, he had to focus, he had to get his mind straight.

_"ácwencan." _

He didn't even dare open his eyes, but when he lowered his hands, the shouts had stopped, leaving only some slightly distressed whispers. Slowly, he opened his eyes, allowing the smoke to clear as well as the wetness in his eyes to ebb away. The barn was half destroyed, the straw and hay was no more and the timbers were blackened. Only about a third of the produce was left, definitely not enough to feed the animals and keep the villagers warm in the approaching autumn months.

"No." The word left his mouth in a sorrowful whisper.

"You stupid boy. If we all die this winter from hunger and illness, I hope you are the last to go, so you can see what on earth you have done." Although John whispered the words into his ear, they were more full of anger than a shout could ever be. They were malicious and the venom dripped off him so clearly that Merlin genuinely thought he could die from the poison. Subconsciously, he pulled his head further and further away from the man, flinching when the conclusion finally came, like a knife to the heart. "Everyone move along, we will calm down and clear our heads before returning and tackling this mess. Get some water, get the smoke out of your lungs. Come on, move."

Merlin could hear the feet of the villagers shuffling away, with many grumbling to themselves and more than one _"Make him clean it up, it is his mess"_ being shouted. In utter loss, he fell to his knees, bending until his head was touching the ash covered ground. He felt sick, and not because of the smoke, his head was spinning and he wanted to scream until he lost his voice. For the second time that morning, he was shocked by a hand falling on his shoulder, but he did not act on it, he did not rise from his position and he most certainly did not stop crying. A few seconds later, another hand squeezed his opposite shoulder, but this time a much firmer one, not that of a caring mother, but a skilled farmer and labourer. _Will._

"You tried." He said.

"And I failed. Dramatically."

"But you..."

"Blew the one chance I had of proving myself. How will they ever trust me now. I will always be that stupid kid with powers he can and never will be able to control. The one who causes mayhem wherever he steps and ruins the lives of all around him."

"You haven't ruined my life. Merl, you made my life better, in fact, you saved it. Remember. Remember how you stopped those rocks from falling on me? They would have crushed me, killed me, or at least crippled me. But thanks to you, only my arm was broken and here I am, alive, tormenting you in any way I know I can...stick boy." He added the playful insult for extra effect. Will had always been a good friend of Merlin, and an even closer one since the rescue at the tender age of 9, and they had a bond that was so close to brothers any outsider would probably confuse them as related.

Merlin was still upset, it would take him an age to recover from this- in fact, he was not sure he would ever live this down, not by the people, and most definitely not by himself.

"Just leave me. Please."

"Darling..."

"NO! Please, go away." He shrugged off both their touches, trying his hardest not to scream at them with everything bubbling inside. It was ironic, for the fire that had ravaged the house and barn was now very much alight within him, fueled by disappointment, anger and horror.

It was a while before he realised he was once again alone, the tranquility, though, was short lived when he realised what was facing him. Slowly, he stood up and walked towards the barn, picking up a handful of what used to be straw or hay and letting the wind catch it and carry it away. Looking around, he repeated the word that had got him into this situation _"áflíeman" _and held his breath as the wind carried away the evidence, far off into the distance.

He knew he could not replace the hay, and he could not re-build the barn on his own, but he could prevent anymore damage, either from it falling down or re-catching alight in the sun. So he whispered another short spell, coating the structure in a protective shield and gazed upon his 'handywork'. Work that shouldn't need to be done if it hadn't been for him. John was right, he was a stupid, idiotic boy. Curse whoever had 'blessed' him with his 'gifts'.

As he turned to walk away, he saw a small group had returned for the clean up, all having watched his latest show.

"I truly am sorry. One day, I will prove to you I am not a black sheep and someone you have to be scared of." He gazed back at the barn. "It won't fall down, or catch fire again. You'll be safe to rebuild it, and any help you want just ask."

"We do not want any of your help. You have done enough." The words were flat, there was no emotion in them and that hurt Merlin more than he thought it would, he almost wished for anger or madness.

As he walked off, his vision blurred once again as fresh tears filled his eyes. If it was the last thing he did, he would prove to Ealdor he was important, and that he would help them, that he was not the poisoned chalice they thought him to be.

"Merlin?" The voice was so petite he barely acknowledged it, but he spun on his heel to find little Jess stood staring up at him. She was black from the smoke but otherwise seemingly unhurt. "Thank you. You saved me, and we think we can recover most of our house too."

"You are welcome Jess."

"And what happened...it was an accident. Even I would mess up if people were shouting at me and watching me like that. I think your magic is really special, and I would love to be able to do the things you do."

He smiled, and it was not forced or half hearted, it was a full blown grin that hurt his cheeks. His heart swelled and some of the regret emptied from his stomach. Bending down he drew eye level with Jess. "Here, hold out both your hands, like this, cup them." He showed her what he meant and she did it, hovering her dainty hands just above his own. "What's your favourite colour?"

"Orange! No, blue! No...green! No...erm..." She giggled when she couldn't decide and for a moment, Merlin felt what it would be like to have had a little sister.

"Ok, here we go." He decided to go with all colours been as she couldn't pick, besides, it would make a better display anyway. _" fífaldan."_

Hundreds of tiny butterfly blossomed from their hands, flying around the pair before disappearing into the now warm midday sun, their colour shining off them like stars in the night sky. Jess jumped and danced about, weaving inbetween the ribbons of colour, giggling.

"Oh Merlin, that was beautiful, thank you."

"You helped me, I couldn't have done it without your belief. Now run along, I don't want your dad wondering where you are, and especially not your mum." He smiled and was shocked when the little girl ran into his stomach in a hug, before running back, waving and still smiling.

If only everyone were as amazed as Jess. Walking back to his little hut, he found the weight lessened even the slightest bit by the little girl, his stomach was fluttering with its own butterflies of happiness and hope. If today had taught him anything, it was that even just a little spark could start a blaze, and his little ray of hope was that spark, except his bonfire would be success, and instead of going to flames, he would become great.

Merlin, the sorcerer, the silent gift of Ealdor, a small village in Essetir, belonging to King Cenred, destined for great things, even if he did not yet know what.

**I won't even pretend to be an expert on the old religion and spells, but I pulled up a nifty Old English translator and used that, so here are the translations:**

_**áflíeman**__- disperse_

_**ácwencan**__- extinguish_

_**fífaldan**__- butterfly (on this occasion, there were other options, such as buterflége, but I thought this was too close to ours and I wanted a bit of variety.:D)_

Thank you for reading, and I hope to have more short Ealdor stories up soon.


	2. AN

Hello followers/reader. I don't usually do the whole chapter of author's notes but I feel this one is helpful, so I apologize for tricking people into thinking this is another chapter *don't throw fruit and veg*

The one thing I dislike about this website is the fact I can't put things into series' like on A03. But a few reviews (which I will reply to anyway) have asked about a series of Ealdor stories and...YES, I am planning on doing a series, or at least a few more. :D

Here are the notes from my series on A03 just to clear it up a bit...

_EALDOR SERIES: What happened in the time before Camelot? When Merlin was just a boy struggling with his powers in a village full of people who hate him?_

_A series of short fics and stories of Merlin's times in Ealdor. I just always liked the idea of knowing his history, especially due to all the times he spoke of it, and they weren't always in the best light, they always seemed to hold an air of sadness over them. I do hope to write 'some' happy ones, but knowing me they'll all end up angsty and sad. :/_

_As I mentioned in my notes for 'Embers', I never decided if Ealdor knew of Merlin's powers, but for the purpose of these stories, they did, and let's say they weren't happy about them._

So yes, I am hoping to get more of these stories out, I do have ideas but any hints of what people might like are much appreciated, I like to make my readers happy if possible.

Thank you and sorry again for making this an author's note chapter.


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